Dec 14, 2009

i won't die

on a foggy
covered by nothing but the computers' flickering glow
the fat cat snoring in her corner
dreaming in rhyme as my avatar changes into some kind of an angel or
maybe even a bloody ax in the sand
which would lead people to believe that
i am still here
i guess this is a poem
for all of those who can't stand to breathe
the stench of their own stink
who no longer care enough to
get out of bed
find a job
for those who don't feel like editing their drunken
slop of a poem
fuck, u, u know it's that time of the year
for all you losers
watching a tv show about being reconnected
with god
a lost family member or something called, hope
for those sick of all the sugary bullshit or just bull
for all those closet billy idol fans
for those who never did any drugs
but were simply born
too slow
for the obese armchair activist
inhaling his third pizza hut pizza
for the girl who thinks she's gonna make it big
by fixing her nose
for the generic shut-in
who only writes about roses
because he has seen all the ugly in the world
and wants to forget
all the Lucilles putting his last dollar in the jukebox
instead of washing baby clothes
for all those who find their last rebel yell
when the sheriff comes with the eviction notice

for the time love left you breathless
on a beach full of sun.


Dec 11, 2009

Nina Sighs...

pours herself another vodka/red bull
and turns up the volume

'Super Nanny'
what a great show.


show over. cigs, gone.

thinks about getting dressed and going outside to see if the car will start.. nah.
searches for 'Even Flow' on Utube instead.

Pearl Jam.. isn't it a decade too soon for them to be hip again?


o, okay.. so you're just gonna be all sullen and bitchy now?

no. i found a pair of long johns and they fit so i am actually quite content.

so, you are getting dressed and you are gonna go out and try to start your car?


alright. just sayin'. just might be good to see if it starts. cause you are gonna have to drive it tomorrow.

i can walk.

LMFAO! yeah, right. in this weather? you aren't as tough as you used to be, Nina. Let's face it, you have pretty much given up.

on what?!


fuck you.


Dec 5, 2009

Radar Love

love is..

us, living in a van by the river..

drinking cheap scotch and screw-top wine

writing mad/bad-ass poems on napkins stolen from McDonald's.

we will film everything, of course, and become friends.

lol come on now, let's get serious!

Love is..
the blinds closed, your wet hair, your pupils all crescent, the clutch
and hold of your sweet talons, and that satin bush wild enough to silk on!

to silk on? oh, you mean after i bang it on your salty lips & tongue?

oh yeah - and the way you paint those lusty arrows on my skin
till i am blind & gutted, reduced to howls; dog language

but what if i want a cigarette and we have none?

i'll let you suck my finger or if you want you can suck your thumb and i won't ever tell anyone.

Nov 2, 2009


Nina wakes
to find him carrying her



to his kymograph/other thing machine thing

his sepia lab coat
has vanished in spots

what are you doing with that?

checking it for a change


don't worry
you'll get it back


Oct 20, 2009

the land stands still, the water keeps rising

both moons, those milky eyes
dissolve into soft focus

Nina is dreaming. her hair a tangle of mischief
blue veins pulsing starfish highlit thighs hand painted

bubble b, where did you wander off to

far away giggle
broken static

just /// beach

are you wearing the repellent

i found a cove full of ***///*

get back to the villa before dark, i'm picking you up in a few hours

foamy shadow - flagged


ok // tryin to send [image]


Oct 14, 2009

Nina starts crying at the same time the rain begins to फाल - 10/01/09 11:09:51

not so much out of sadness as from frustration.

she closes the window and gets out the ice.
take that, eyelid 1 and eyelid 2!

frozen swirls of radon on frozen planets of ice?

'forever afternoon (tuesday?)'

the fairy land of love .. i know u are smiling .. i always make u smile with my love

It's smoke only when no
longer visible, everything around
it, shiny, blue, and naked, odd parts I notice and

lick-spittle of thought, brainwell, shadows of my soul .. imagine it is a blue world's other weather .. rubbed on your knot .. my finger-flower close the blinds, concentrate, u know the vanity of the carnal world. but that is not what i was talking about..

well.. i am talking about the enormous stillness of dream-taste.
a fatal autumnal afternoon.
why fatal?
just a deeper magic. .

two-lane highway, recognition?

before the re-pass.



your hair smells good.

your lips are soft.

i'll stay.

who will save us now?

Oct 12, 2009

with a hint of plum in her hair

i love strange places

strange places or being a stranger?


they were staying in an abandoned villa overlooking the ice cold ocean. there were other small villas in the area but this was the only one with electricity, hot water and a working jacuzzi bathtub. the place was overflowing, with dark, cheap mediterranean furniture spotted in places with a strange florescent mold (?). Nina had discovered what seemed like, hundreds of bottles of wine, underneath the ornate bar. each small, round bottle they pulled out, had the same handwritten label:

Robertson Winery
natural sweet red
South Africa

Nina was already opening a bottle, using her small, personal, vine engraved corkscrew.

i hope the corks aren't all crumbly, who knows how old these bottles are..

Nina laughs, grabs a small plastic cup and says
this one is fine. i'm taking it with me into the bath. why don't you check out the kitchenette. so-so said that he left some decent freeze-dried meals in the pantry. or.. you should see if you can get that old vhs player to work, he left his 1960's classic tv shows, collection. her voice trailing away as she turns the corner to walk down the hall towards the bathroom.

he decides to go out on the terrace to get some fresh air before tackling the ancient vhs situation. the place had a weird odor. not really unpleasant but the fact that it was, unidentifiable, bothered him. Nina said it was just the regular, musty-dusty closed-up-house smell, and suggested opening all the windows but the windows were screen less, and he wasn't sure what kind of insects were out there, so they agreed to leave the windows closed for the time being, especially at night. the view from the terrace was spectacular, 2 moons, each one surrounded by a bright violet glow, which was never visible from the city. the seagulls looked like regular seagulls only much larger and they seemed to move much slower, than he remembered from his childhood. he wished he had asked so-so for a map of the island, but it was too late now. he suddenly felt uneasy and went back inside, locking the glass door behind him.
he finds Nina still in the bathtub, her hair pinned up, jet flows turned way down, and a washcloth over both eyes. bubbles in circles bumping up against her skin like white bursting flames.
are your eyes hurting again?
emmm.. especially the left one. feels like it is turning into a migraine.
relax, i'll go look for some pills, knowing so-so the way i do, i know he left something good behind

Nina sighs to herself. she was sick of all the poison. sick of the running & hiding..


back in the kitchenette, he finds a blank envelope, and starts to write:

my heart is only a muscle
drained and flattened or
fluted and electric
depending on the umbilicus of your climate,
the smashing of your void.
your heart is a forest, where
if i'm not careful
mine may disappear


as they slept
the ocean grew colder &
thousands of stars
moved closer together

Nina dreamed dreams she would never remember
they flowed into each other
becoming one


moose-mink monogram


Marcy Playground

# #

i really like that line:
eating a face

who wrote that?

i don't recall


lol, i always use, 'remember' .. so ..

ah.. so .. so, you liked that song?

not really. just the songs it reminded me of

alright.. open another bottle.

i can't i am having the strangest dream.

i'll do it


where did you leave your insane goblet?

i don't remember

Nina.. did you go out on the terrace, while i was in the shower?


heh.. you know... i came here with you so that you are safe.. please don't lie.

there weren't any insects! i wasn't bit! i just wanted to see the sea turtles. so-so said they use this beach! they have developed a special protection!
i just wanted to see!!

alright. it's ok. calm down.

Oct 8, 2009

playing. atomic/blondie

no helmet sensation today
only a neon smell

Nina gets out the old keyboard
unnecessary but her fingers want
the comfort of the plastic keys

he had cushioned her & traumatized her hips
had insisted that transition was still possible

outside, a large tracker unit rolls by
its blinking lights turning the raindrops
silent deaths
his lips

she felt cold, & almost wished she was huddled in a cafe full of people warm with drink


Over our life - then shalt thou, smiling, touch the keys, And draw me softly with thee into Paradise. --- ee cummings


whatcha doin?

watching 'Willard' on the idiot box

claustrophobic fur smothering victorian fear


write something


prism of rain *** whisperling,

stop. the world is hateful and you know it. i am sick of it.

no you aren't. remember that time we ended up in the other space because the TR malfunctioned. how we sat on the naked beach watching the strange bird like creatures swoop down into that odd shivery silver water to catch whatever it is they were eating. how we laughed at the odd jubilant trilling sounds they made while flying back up into the sky. how you sat perfectly still as my mouth found your neck.. the cave we slept in.. the things we wrote on the walls..


Oct 7, 2009


subtle as a log.

Nina reads the words on the screen. Uh huh, you should definitely stick to what you know. No doubt about that, Mr. Writer. King of the Samples.
She smiles.
It is dark outside but is it night?

_all circuits_ are busy now_ [error 815-71]

she felt like sliding across the carpet and touching the screen just to hear those little statical crackles. but she didn't have carpet.

she resumes reading.. yadayada..

'that unfortunately mistake smugness
for being refined and mistake lack of sympathy for clear

oooo.. now, that is creamy.

wall sprites move quietly near the walls, and wait.

Nina wakes up from one of the best dreams she has ever had. The entire theme was of dinning room tables. She couldn't decide between the oval shaped blond wood that looked like old school desks of different heights pushed together or the round, dark cherry wood with all the tiny, secret drawers. Both easily seated 12. &

for the cat named, Big Bridge:

who takes me there, hands me a glass of mead?
a lock opens, dragged out organism,
red grass burnt feet. all is that didn't
to be of some old neither, was moved to Am
in My.

Top: where he's @ and what his stillness means:

beep beep .. across the screen:
slow down you are going a little crazy there and forgetting your own rule, barbarous..

'The Beautiful Lady is cardboard, the sky--where the happy lovers fly away--is tissue paper. Liquid flows from the wound of the poor abandoned lover, and the "mystics" who jabber their "theories" in chorus remain open-mouthed, become quite flat and disappear, while the author, pestered from right and left, doesn't know what to dream up to explain to the audience what has just happened.'

i thought the topic was drowning?

i am struggling between fantasy & the basic,
between breaths, of nerves.

my stomach is a lost exit, how about some spaghetti and texas toast?

i realize that what i write is for the most part inaccessible and interesting to maybe one reader at the most.


tears, & voids.

Oct 6, 2009

३० minutes

-30 minutes later-

he punches in the password, pushes the heavy door open. the apartment is dark except for the aquarium.

is that you?

it be me

what did you forget?

nothing. i picked you up some half & half and a pack of smokes



he opens the fridge and puts the half & half in the top shelf of the door. walks into the bedroom and hits the soft-light switch. he is surprised to see a bottle of club soda on her nightstand and surprised to see that there is no sheet on the mattress. she is laying on her side, her back to him, her hair in spools held together by tiny, colorful puzzle-piece clips.


if you are going to speak to me, sit down.

the hand in the voice pushes him down.



do you need quarters for laundry?

no. the sheet came off and i was too lazy to put it back on


the little black clock on the nightstand ticks like a bomb.

mind if i hang out for awhile.. i could sketch you in that pose

what would you call it...?


Nina closes her eyes
she is drowning between the lines
sunlight, hitting water like blood
paraphrased by slush, bits of scale
circulating thru patches of coral
sinking deeper, the water a throat
of eyelashes, of ink, torn flesh
moonbitter scars that pop and bulge
the taste of soundlessness
worlds under worlds touching
pieces of heaven dotted
with sky, soft as toes in the sand

Sep 26, 2009


Nina regrets not letting him wear her pants to work but she was still mad about him beating off on her ass and his drunk friend banging on her door at 2 in the morning.
let him in, he probably has cigs
and do i want him putting another hole in the wall with his head. . no thanks.
yeah, you're right, it would have turned into a nightmare

& there ya go. in the next dream they are all together in an apartment filled with too many rooms, pets and chaos. no yard, no flowers, but a 'work-out' room. ugh.

oh well. 7:30 a.m. and she is alone with the rest of the chardonn aaaaaaaaay, brandy and a couple of cigs. she opens the magic window:

salty - shit - one call for submissions

ag - oooooooo... star linguini .. affectionate eyeshadowing

myspace - i am going to collect a reward (my secret)

blogger - htc stopped by and left a dose of 'hello, how are ya, my friend'.


Nina gets out a can of jellied cranberry sauce .. she is going to feast on the other white meat, tonite.

Aug 20, 2009


I'll paint you a black painting, very red
rough boy, innards sounding like doorbells buried by lifts for little. A dark surface, ants in locks.
Taste the snowy fabric of your fifth glass.


Tastes like rotten wood and loneliness. Fly Air India if you ever leave the states. The drinks are free.

Nina's phone is busy, symbols forgiving the light, beehive drone & detached ring tones.

I like the little bead of sweat sliding out from underneath that collar. Is it a dog collar?

Nina squints. Her eyes are silver. The pupils, dark buckets. Sort of scary.

Street thorax.


Get any interesting messages?

Nah. Just the regular short curves. The usual spy ware infections.

I love watching the clouds slide off the pewter sky. ..

Emmm. Ever try that white Merlot?

Bet it tastes like white Zinfandel.



The black beaded tattoo on her right wrist glitters, as the dome around the cabin, softly closes.

OK with you if we watch Pink - Don't leave Me?



Jul 27, 2009


Nina holds his elastic flowing
for one more second
then lets it go.

she passes over the pencil pressed trenches
and scans the thought cards in the mirror,

presses the heart button with love
& feels all the channels.

She Smokes Another Cig To Stay Awake

lost finger, touch mine harder
i like your gliding gun
your dissolved press of my wrists
the ripples in your eyes so ... so.. big
your paper thighs in/on all that immobile lace..

ah girl.. come sit on my face! love the intoxication roll but hate that hair.

were my eyes not
in a bird with vacui stare.
.. u left cheese on the counter
plus. . u nothin' but a bichejos
bichejob and u never help me out. and your last piece was a cut-up.


listen to me.. above the lips above the scar & the light halo...

Liebestraum no.3 ...

no image.


blue ink day. close the book, squash the bug. Nina looks into the toothpaste splattered mirror. the skin:
becoming more and more discolored, blotched, broken. capillaries blooming. 
the day had started with another unexplainable nose bleed. she was tainted by an ugly virus. and it was growing stronger. just seeing made her tired. she wanted to go back to sleep, even if the sleep turned into another storm. she saw herself walking towards him, the ground rising, the sky gold-lit, her skirt, wildly pink.  something she would never wear. there was always a house, rooms filled with disorder. mostly she craved the sense of smell but there was no button for that. a hurricane blowing in and out, minutes of nothing where she could rest. another hour another sleep. this time she can see pictures inside of him, membranes of elongated, orange flowers curling in a serenade of love, a woolly texture. a dixie cup --- its small star design glowing neon, the points pogo-ing up and down, up and down. thick and thin lines circling the rim. a card covered in tiny, pulsating starfish. then again, a nothingness. the annoying sound of the phone ringing brings Nina back. she gets off of the cloud bed and walks to the picture window, puts her finger on his name. no mail.

Jun 27, 2009


i miss u

didn't even realize how much till i found your old blog profile. that whole thing about the ocean made all my mornings softer. i continue clicking my life away, without you. but the poems are gone. the words, empty. dictionaries of silence. the hotel room, just an empty sheet of paper.
i sweep past your posts. bare soles * older & older, we both laughed at him, together. . the way he thinks he knows.

Monday, July 18, 2005

sleep baby, sleep..

while the devil
shepherds your
eyelids thru reincarnations
the braille of scar
& informal workshops
sleep baby, sleep

and know that you are loved

like the quiet key or
a jungle flower --- ants in the hollow stem
racing to secret destinations

& so the heart beats on


it was always blue on blue. we never kissed, never really even wanted to. and every one i gave you, you took.

begin again
with the soft thing
begin again and send me words
shaped in an isle of smoke


Sunday, July 24, 2005

no heroes..
only deep pockets
of varied storms
playing about this city and its smoking digits
its crying lambs & down time

souls partially reflected in eddies
darker than venereal gums
or the ebony-handled knife
stroking a soft cheek


Corkscrew Misdemeanor

It's like you suck off my boots

with each sip

& run ahead of the soundtrack

a hushed chorus of synthetic noise

caught in your eyebrow

and yes

you pour and

I sink



baby, baby, baby, baby...

Collapsing, Moans Cloudhead, Rain Unto Earth

and I am perched on the tip of something big

this may take all day

he burns new and bright

his elbows and feet
awkward and sweet

his hands
dew-slick windings

his mouth tastes of woodsmoke
I imagine its dark color.........


[ here is where i would post your beautiful face but what is the point ]



the hours are:

drowned ideas
lost creatures
dark shawls
automobiles (whispers)

a perfume of black wings & lost things.

shiny ping-tings
my hand in your no-

sickles in cells

your smile.. a twisted gin sour

i like it when you




what is on the nightstand now? an overture of ash in your cup and the clear skyy spill?

how long will you stay
box writing
plucking the dark
waiting for me to do it to a real girl
and seeing your face
maybe i don't want to come back
a pennant for you to dip in salt
to suck, silt & stroke
to roast when the mood strikes

Sep 9, 2006

Fragments 1 - 37

Hey Flatfish X,
you need butcher paper & portable legs
to fall with occasion
then at cum window (not yet written)
girl hail & text trances
Nina didn't care whether or not the room overlooked the harbor
she was depressed and only wanted to sleep.
dream 1
she was standing in a round, flying machine
they were cruising over an island, spotted with palm trees, he was speaking and she was laughing
there was a large, silver purse slung over her shoulder
when she moved
it sparkled
outside small waves leave their foam upon the shore
in the room next door
a man with tangled eyes

death music

our last ash drops into the air
we become gigantic stars that walk among the trees
below us wavers wave away the last wave
to brush silver from their hair

Apr 1, 2009

hello, spring:

i fondle you & i kiss him

pocket your flying colors

your sunny composer voices
so tran,quil,iz,ing
is suddenly drummed up
fat and full of gnome gardens, a reckless soil

my april heart of not-beats

a fuzzy collage of:
tiny pink ribbons
a tulip
lilac dusted yet pearly

ha, you forgot the robin.. and your eyes are kites in the sky, my love, my sweetness, my endless bliss. your code is always hit & miss.

my code is on your lips!

maybe.. until i burn it off with my next cig. nah.. i'll plant a tree for you and water it with some shiraz.. paint a chicken embryo, send it to you like a yummy chocolate bunny.. take the car to the car wash & and not feel like such a winter mummy.

alrighty and just so you know, the embryo i will keep safe with the rainbow..
maybe bend it back
into a straight line
or send it to the echoes.

aw girl, don't be putting no salt in my game. you know i love you and you drive me insane like the winds that drag red souls --- green stretching against the spines of displaced moles and beyond this..

yes.. do go on.this is much better than the chicken.

i'll sketch into your hair:
the sparkle of a million diamonds
the most delicate iris, fragile and fair.
dearest blue heart, my ship, my tender rain mouth, my terrible plum.


Mar 7, 2009

betwixt 2 places..

in the slowly.

when we get there
he will remove his mad hat


lock us in the
god box.

is that BOX6?

yes, the scariest one.

how will we escape?

not sure yet.

Feb 27, 2009

Strung Together

ringing through reason aisle)
the phone, .

please bring vodka home


what the fuck - are u drunk already?!

no, just in the shoulder of the cap. and people, they are letters, extending into picture stretched hands
every lamp post a soft swallow

i'll pick you up some chocolate.


minutes later * home
face & stranger in the chair. time locked.
lagged sun spasm.
my only eye clamp: narrow hips. tiny tree feet wrapped in tiny crashes.

he kisses the long december of her back, her mixed-up, hyper hair, half light , half black.

the ice turns to fog turns to trembling:
did you mean to say, humping?

no. not at all.. closed eyes heavy with THAT
look . touches propped prop.


this show/hide version of somehow-shadows, ceiling shots

get back to the stretched hands

i kiss yours

try to focus, ok? shows teeth.. moves
heart to new heat. .

later he puts a tiny gold sticker of a lost shell on her slender shoulder

there are some missing parts to the story like the still point
when there was only silence

how when she forgot him her lines started to disappear

drawing by MethMaker

Feb 22, 2009

electric eel

s my butt doing that thing? the turning to stick to it ness. ]him: a Reply

o our little Demoral.

"So you rambles about lace cigs.
Report o landscape. The peripheral grey scale tired. close eyes heavy with that
Look up * send Recent Posts
o o Post
the window. room Clogged With the door
see the clumsy I've become * Quote
o Invite
o o and in bed usually you come more, with pinches to hide

a photograph:

"We'll watch or needle with self-conscious
accent Message jiggle
left-over breasts

propping light
under darkhair,Somehow
shadows .
black eyes

ceiling shots

nightstand hat . a Show/Hide vision. head." open to here. satisfied

tucked lips strum to hum, my simulated tingle *

Feb 5, 2009

just a little pinprick..

Nina feels her thoughts being autosaved.
get out and get what u can while your dad is at home sleeping
no one can see u in your sweet dreams, the house is cold.

Jan 16, 2009

In the garden of lost time..

Nina finds the little gifts he left:

a tiny crystal snowflake
the red heart-crush in the shallow pond
dandelion tufts
stolen pyramid light


i didn't mean to make you sad.
check the lock on the fence..


a key that only recognizes her hands


and next to the tree where the darkness ends..


wrapped in kelp, a lilac colored sea shell filled with all the sounds of the ocean


turn it over, the songs change


Nina does and hears a sound that only a together-star can make:
a spinning swishing sound mixed with static, piano & the happy laughter of two small children..